


Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 61-70

by Severina



Category: Oz (1997)
Genre: Community: hardtime100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-20
Updated: 2009-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:16:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 more drabbles written for the prompts at LJ's Hardtime100 Community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 61-70

**61.  
Title:** Wish  
**Prompt:** 61 - Angst in Small Doses  
**Timeframe:** Season Two  
**Written:** August 18, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

The nightmares started long before Keller moved into the pod. Beecher was used to waking sweat-soaked and on the verge of screaming; listening to only his own harsh breathing as he washed up and tried to still his shaking hands.

With Keller, it was a little better… at least until Keller tried to grab his dick. He lashed out, freaked out, flailed at the injustice even as Keller raised his hands and backed away.

He's nobody's prag. Never again.

Why then does he lay awake now… listening to Keller's soft even breathing, and wishing…

No. He doesn't.

He doesn't wish.

 

**62.  
Title:** Mystery Meat  
**Prompt:** 62 - Something Blue  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 19, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

They had wolfed down their fish sticks. Finished the potatoes and corn. They stare at what is left.

"So," Keller says, poking the gelatinous mass with his fork, "what is it?"

Beecher lifts the tray to his nose for an experimental sniff. He considers the question for a long moment. Then -- "I have no fucking idea."

"Is it jello?" Rebadow suggests.

"Nah," Keller says immediately, "it ain't dessert."

"My guess is… 'something with blueberries'," Busmalis puts in.

"Hey, Hill," Keller calls out, "I'll give ya twenty bucks to eat it."

"Fuck you, Keller."

Keller's eyes shone. "Sorry, I'm taken."

 

**63.  
Title:** Helping Hand  
**Prompt:** 63 - Punch Drunk Love (punch must be thrown)  
**Timeframe:** Season Two  
**Written:** August 24, 2009  
**Word Count:** 143

The new guy makes his move in the showers. Apparently not even a few rhyming couplets and biting the tip off a man's dick are enough to chase him off.

I manage to get in a couple of shots to his head before he takes me down. We slide on the slippery tiles and I decide then and there that if he fucks my ass, he's going to lose more than his dick.

I slither forward, groping for purchase… and then the weight on my back is gone. I twist in time to see Keller planting a foot in the guy's ribcage, then a flurry of motion as the hacks (too late, always too late) swarm into the room.

Keller's lip curls and he spits at the new guy before offering me a hand up.

He might be an okay pod-mate after all.

 

**64.  
Title:** Whatever It Takes  
**Prompt:** 64 - Dress Up (one person wears another person's clothing)  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 19, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

When I came back from saying good-bye, his things had been cleared from our pod. Ours, again, so briefly. I stood in the middle of the small room and searched for some sign that he'd ever been here, some clue that would announce Chris Keller Lived Here, Loved Here. The pod is sterile and cold.

I find the muscle shirt buried at the bottom of my laundry basket a week later. I bring it back to the pod, unwashed. Wait until lights out to slip it on. I'm finally able to sleep through the night.

Jesus, Chris, I miss you.

 

**Title:** Sin  
**Prompt:** 65 - Hidden  
**Timeframe:** Season Two  
**Written:** August 19, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

He apologizes to me, confesses for me, accedes to my (nefarious) plans, stands by me.

I tell myself it's not enough.

Not enough to make up for the snap of my bones breaking under his hands, for the weeks of pain, anger and paranoia, for the slow sure knowledge that they'd all get away with it.

I don't trust him.

I don't want him.

I never loved him.

I try to pray in the manner that Said teaches me, but I still feel cold, empty and alone. And I am even more the sinner for lying to God… and myself.

 

**66.  
Title:** Boob Tube  
**Prompt:** 66 - Puppet Master (must include Pecky, Nooter, or Jericho)  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 19, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Miss Sally on the box, the rest of us lined up like boobs in front of the tube.

"Which one do you like best?" Cyril asks.

"Which one?" Augustus glances from Miss Sally, bouncing in a milkmaid's getup, to Cyril. "You have a _favourite_?"

"Sure." Cyril smiles his lopsided grin. "I like Nooter the best. He's funny."

"Aaaah, the _puppets_." Augustus shakes his head. "He's talking about the _puppets_."

"Of course the _puppets_." Cyril sighs. "There's only one Miss Sally."

"So true," Busmalis murmurs happily.

If Beecher doesn't get back from his family visit soon, I'll fuckin' kill them all.

 

**67.  
Title:** Something Borrowed  
**Prompt:** 67 - Something Borrowed  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 19, 2009  
**Word Count:** 150

Back from the shower, Beecher noticed it right away. "This new?"

Keller glanced up. "Borrowed it from Hill."

Beecher dropped the item as though it was on fire. "You borrowed a _toothbrush_?"

"Yeah. So?"

"That's disgusting. It's infected with someone else's bacteria and shit."

"Hopefully not shit."

"It's gross," Beecher said firmly.

"Huh. Used it, too." Keller rose fluidly from the chair, tossed his magazine aside. "Kiss me, Toby."

"Get the fuck away from me."

Keller stalked forward, eyes intent on his prey. "Kiss me. Let me dirty up that pretty mouth of yours."

Beecher was fast. Keller was faster. In one long stride he had Beecher pinned between the bed and the wall. He licked a long strip up Beecher's neck before taking his lips in a searing kiss.

Beecher made a face, then shuddered elaborately. "Now I have to shower again."

Keller's eyes gleamed. "I'll get my towel."

 

**68.  
Title:** All I Can  
**Prompt:** 68 - Resolved  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 19, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

They let us talk on the phone. I don't know how Toby managed it, except that his mouth can work miracles.

Hearing his voice makes my chest tight and my mouth dry. We wasted so much time fucking with each other when we could have just been fucking. Right now I'd settle for playing chess.

I want to see him so bad it makes me ache.

But when he tells me he might -- he can -- he will come here to see me, I push him away. I ain't got much, but I'll give him what I can.

Release.

 

**69.  
Title:** Spear-Carrier  
**Prompt:** 69 - And the Word for Today is... (merriam-webster's word of the day)  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 24, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"Sean, what are we doing about Guerra?"

and

"Murph, Glynn wants to see you. Now."

and

"It wasn't me, Officer Murphy!"

and

"It's Floria. About that paperwork--"

 

I hang up (after flirting with Floria a little -- I am human), glance at the paperwork, and sigh. I can handle anything those fuckin' mugs like Pancamo and Adebisi can throw at me, but requisition forms are going to kill me. I never shoulda agreed to take over, even temporarily. I'm a spear-carrier. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Murph, there's a problem with the washing machines."

Come back soon, Tim. I'm beggin' ya.

 

**70.  
Title:** Visiting Room  
**Prompt:** 70 - *smooch*  
**Timeframe:** Season Two  
**Written:** August 20, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Toby knows he's running late, but he steals a last glance in the mirror. He barely recognizes the pale face blinking back at him. He runs a hand nervously over his chin, uneasy without the protective covering to which he's become so accustomed.

He feels exposed from the moment he leaves the pod; puke-inducing, stomach-churningly anxious as he navigates the long corridors of the prison.

He takes a deep breath before he enters the gaily decorated visitors room.

And when his children's soft lips touch his cheek, all the apprehension of the day flows away like so much foul-smelling water.


End file.
